So We Meet-Cute Again

by Geneva Vand

  So We Meet-Cute Again

  Geneva Vand

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Also by Geneva Vand

  I. Terrible Clichés

  II. Tentative Handshakes

  III. Intentional Waltzing

  IV. Winning the ‘I Love You’ Game

  About the Author

  Synopsis

  Everywhere Aiden goes, he sees the same handsome stranger—and promptly makes a klutzy, ridiculous fool of himself. Over and over again, their crossing paths spell humiliating doom for poor Aiden.

  Jason is intrigued by the lanky brunet he keeps chancing upon, and the more he learns the more he wants to properly meet the guy. When they do finally meet, groceries—and hearts—go flying, but can they turn their never-ending meet-cute into something real?

  Copyright © 2019 by Geneva Vand

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  Cover art by Book Cover Zone

  Edited by Nicole Field

  Formatted by Leslie Copeland, LesCourt Author Services

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  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Also by Geneva Vand

  Iska Universe

  Granola Bars and Spaceships

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  So We Meet-Cute Again

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  Evergreen

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  Guardian Angels

  My thanks to everyone who has ever said they liked my work and wanted more of it, everyone who posted a review or sent an email that made me smile, and everyone who didn't think I was crazy when I talked to them about self-publishing. Meet-Cute wouldn't have made it out into the world without you.

  Part 1

  Terrible Clichés

  Aiden thought it might be time to admit it. It was official. Certified and sealed.

  He was a stalker. An accidental and harmless one, but a stalker all the same.

  Because there he was again. It was that same guy. He was everywhere.

  Aiden watched the other man from across the street. And he was certainly nice to watch. Handsome as sin and hot enough to sizzle. He was all broad shoulders and muscled arms and chiseled jaw. He was exactly Aiden's type, apparently. Until now, Aiden had been unaware that he even had a type. But there Hot Guy was to strongly indicate otherwise. You learned something new every day, Aiden supposed.

  Hot Guy must have moved to the neighborhood recently, because Aiden didn't remember seeing him everywhere before the last month or so. But now, wherever Aiden went, there Hot Guy was.

  It was getting ridiculous, really. Aiden was contemplating writing up a disclaimer and printing it on a card. Something like I'm not stalking you; I just like ogling your very fine physique when I happen to see you, might do the trick.

  Currently, Hot Guy was leaning over the late-summer produce at the farm stand just down the block from the table where Aiden sat. Traffic was sparse and the street was somewhat narrow, so Aiden had a fairly good vantage point from his spot at his favorite café.

  He'd been staring off into space, contemplating the arrangements at the next event his company had been contracted to organize, when Hot Guy showed up. Aiden had happily transferred his attentions. After all, Hot Guy was much more interesting than the room layouts that had previously occupied his thoughts.

  There was nothing wrong with a little bit of visual admiration, right? It wasn't like he was catcalling the guy. There was no actual interaction, just admiration from afar.

  Aiden decided to give up on being discreet since Hot Guy never noticed him anyway. He set his coffee down on the little table and lounged back, contemplating the tall blond. His hair wasn't a true blond, more of a dish-watery faded brunet. The gloriously tousled mane brushed the broad shoulders that Aiden was so fond of. His tapered torso lead down to slim hips and long legs that ended in some hardcore biker boots. Faded dark denim and a forest green t-shirt finished the image. He looked at the shirt and wondered what color Hot Guy's eyes were. Aiden hoped they were green to match the shirt.

  He sighed wistfully as his gaze traveled back up to the hair. And the face, features too strong to be pretty but they were definitely appealing, maybe even handsome. And then there were the eyelashes so thick he could tell from here. And they framed eyes that were now looking right at him.

  Shit. As casually as possible, he picked up his coffee and drank. He tried to pretend to be staring at the produce. Yes. That's all he'd been doing: looking in the direction of the farm stand, watching people come and go. Right. Totally believable. Except not.

  Of course the one time Hot Guy actually noticed him would be the one time Aiden was openly ogling instead of covertly ogling. Damn it. Aiden wondered if Hot Guy was straight and homophobic and likely to try to kick his ass. That would match the way his luck usually went.

  Risking another sneaky glance back at Hot Guy's face, he saw a grin and an expression suggesting withheld laughter.

  That was great. That was just awesome.

  Hot Guy raised an amused eyebrow in an aristocratic manner, which only made him more attractive. Damn it.

  Aiden's face burned as Hot Guy turned back to the vendor. Hot Guy bought his end-of-summer produce, turned back around, and waved jauntily at Aiden. He then proceeded to ignore Aiden entirely and walked down the block, presumably to an apartment building alarmingly close to Aiden's own.

  Aiden was tempted to do a classic repeating head thump against the table. It seemed appropriate, but if he gave in to the impulse he had no doubt that Hot Guy would come back around the corner and catch him at it. That would, after all, be an ending entirely suited to the rest of the encounter.

  Instead of succumbing to the head-thumping urge, Aiden left cash on the table for the coffee, the pastry, and the tip then walked down the block in the opposite direction. He may as well limit the probability of a face to face meeting after being caught gawking. That would just further cement the stalker vibe, after all.

  It did suck that he still didn't know what color Hot Guy's eyes were, though. Aiden supposed he'd stick with the green version. It would surely be corrected later. He figured it was only a matter of time until he knocked the man down in the middle of the street or something.

  Jason was trying hard not to laugh. It was that guy again. This was about the millionth time this week that he'd seen Stalker Boy. Or maybe Jason was the stalker. Naw. Stalker Boy was definitely the stalker. Maybe it was mutual? He supposed that it could be.

  Either way, he and the lanky brunet were dogging each other's steps. Despite the frequency with which he was running into the other man, he figured that they probably didn't live in the same building. Mostly because if they did, they would have crashed into each other on the stairs by now. Jason guessed there were a couple blocks between their apartments, at the very least. But they apparently had the same favorite coffee shop. And grocery store. And bookstore. And jazz club. This was getting a little ridiculous.

  Watching Stalker Boy out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw him set down his coffee and lean back in his chair. The dude sat like a big cat. All lean and graceful and poised. Like a panther, Jason decided, looking at the shiny dark hair. The other man's slim torso seemed to go on for miles and the limbs that should have just looked gangly looked graceful instead.

  Jason kind of wanted to make a buffet out of him. All stretched out like that, he would make a beautiful feast.

  Wait a minute... He turned his head to look more directly. Yup. Stalker Panther was, indeed, staring at him. Probably. It was hard to tell for sure from acro
ss the street, but it definitely looked like it. Hot damn. Maybe there really was a gay fairy godmother. Like that fairy godmother in Cinderella. The one that made all your dreams come true. Except his dreams were R-rated.

  Panther apparently realized he was caught. He jolted and blushed while he picked up his coffee and tried to look like he was watching something past Jason.

  Jason couldn't help but chuckle as he turned back around. He took his bag of veggies and handed his money to the confused stand owner.

  Because he was in a good mood and feeling snarky, he gave Panther a little wave before he wandered off in the direction of his apartment. His reward was great big eyes and a really pretty renewed blush.

  As he wandered home, he wondered what his chances of catching Stalker Panther were, if he decided to try. Finding him would obviously be no problem. But cats could be wily or uninterested. He kind of hoped this particular cat would maybe be interested.

  He'd have to think on it, Jason decided. There was no point in catching Panther if he wasn't going to follow through.

  Did he want to follow through? He smiled and let himself into his apartment building. Could be fun, right?

  Aiden sighed. Sometimes his job as an event organizer was interesting and sometimes it was really, really, really boring.

  "Hey, Ange!" he called.

  There was a thump from the direction of their huge storage closet followed by a pained groan. He turned his chair to look just as his business partner stuck her head around the door.

  Ange blew a stray wisp of hair out of her face and frowned. "What?"

  Aiden blinked. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm looking for the silver tablecloths we bought last year when we couldn't rent them."

  "I thought those were round." He frowned. "Didn't we talk them into rectangular tables because we couldn't fit enough round ones into the hall they rented?" Aiden winced when Ange growled.

  "We're making a geometric, mod statement and layering them over black cloths. I told them they'd get a discount on the rental if they'd use the round because I didn't want to buy them again in a different shape. Maybe one person a year wants silver. Now what did you want?"

  "Sorry. I found a mint mix with two different colors of purple. Is that good enough?"

  Ange sighed. "No, but let me see anyway."

  She turned around to shove at something in the closet then came to stand next his chair. Aiden turned back to his computer monitor and pulled up the picture that showed the colors. She hummed contemplatively.

  "The dark ones are good, but we'd have to sort the light ones out by hand. And we would have to buy double because half of them would get tossed."

  Aiden sighed. "Seriously?"

  "Seriously. By the end of the phone call I was thoroughly informed on the subject. Trust me. Can we call the supplier and see if they'll send us a batch of monotone ones? Just in the dark purple?"

  "And by we you mean me?"

  Ange grinned. "Well, unless you'd like to look for the tablecloths or take over the food arrangements from Rob. I'm sure Scott would be happy to see you."

  Aiden shuddered. Scott may be one of his best friends, but he was terrifying in chef mode. "Let me just find their number."

  Ange chuckled darkly and left him to it.

  It only took a moment to find the company's customer service phone number. He grabbed the office phone's handset and spun his chair around so he could stare out the window while he navigated the automated menu to try to get to a human customer service rep.

  There was a man walking by their windows carrying a giant easel and a small army of bags from the nearby art supply store. As Aiden watched, curious, the man lost his grip on the easel.

  The traditional don't-drop-it dance ensued, including the usual contortions, while the man tried to hang onto all the bags and attempted to keep the easel from rocketing out of his arms and into the street.

  With one last spin, the man got the bulky contraption under control and started walking again. Aiden stilled as he finally saw the guy's face. He gaped. That was Hot Guy! What were the chances? Seriously.

  The phone he'd somehow forgotten he was using beeped angrily in his ear and disconnected.

  "Shit," he muttered, hitting the button to end the call on his side so he could redial. Now he'd have to go through the entire phone tree again.

  He pressed buttons on the handset half-heartedly, wondering what Hot Guy would be up to with an easel and that much loot from a high-end craft store. Was he a painter? That would be neat.

  "Thank you for calling Treasures. How can I help you?"

  Aiden started at the voice on the other end of the line. Time to get back to work.

  The next time Jason saw Panther, he almost choked on his coffee. At first he laughed when he caught a glimpse of him, because their positions were almost exactly reversed. Jason was at the little coffee shop and Stalker Panther had just walked up to the produce stand. It was early evening and Jason had decided to skip cooking in favor of coffee shop food and a latte. He assumed Panther was grabbing dinner as well.

  Jason leaned back in his chair, propping his ankle on his knee and watching the other man idly. It was an okay view but not notable, since the awning blocked most of the light. Then Panther turned and walked down the sidewalk across the street. The streetlight added illumination to the fading natural light, and Jason was able to see him clearly. And it was a sight to behold.

  It was all Jason could do not to gape like an awestruck teenager. He felt like holding up a little sign with a ten on it. Or maybe even an eleven. Stalker Panther was, well, stalking down the street in the tightest pair of well-worn blue jeans Jason had ever seen. The white t-shirt was worn thin and stretched to the point of being almost sheer, and it clung to him like a second skin. There were heeled and buckled boots on his feet that made him seem even taller. His black hair was messy and his lined eyes were huge and dramatic, even from the other side of the narrow street.

  Jason couldn't think of a button Panther wasn't hitting for him with all the force of a sledgehammer.

  Stalker Panther must have noticed Jason staring because he looked over. Jason watched as he slowed, then stopped completely. His grin was huge as he spun toward Jason. He stretched his arms out and sketched an elaborate stage bow. When he was standing straight again, he blew Jason a little kiss before he kept going.

  Jason concluded that he had, in fact, not succeeded in not gawking and may have actually been drooling. He wanted to sink under the table and become invisible. Either that or chase Panther down and tackle him onto the pavement before devouring him one lick at a time. Panther cleaned up nice. Or, rather, gothed up, Jason supposed. Whatever. Either way, the man wore it well.

  Jason sighed and picked up his coffee, since both the invisibility and the tackling weren't really viable options. There was, however, nothing to keep him from mentally playing that image over and over again for the rest of the night.

  Aiden's small city didn't have much of a nightlife. What little there was mostly packed itself into one five block section of one street several blocks north of his apartment. A few clubs of different types, restaurants, bars, and coffee shops snuggled in among the daytime shops and the few lonely live music venues.

  Aiden was forever grateful that most of the street was LGBT friendly. Well, he supposed that parts of it were more than friendly, considering that there was an honest-to-goodness gay club that regularly reeled them all in, from a rather wide radius, with their specials and live music.

  Yeah, it was a hookup spot. And yeah, Divine was probably started only as a money-making venture. But it was currently owned by a trans woman and her wife, and they made it clear that all colors of the rainbow were welcome, especially on event nights. Even the mostly straight ones. Yup, the music was that good.

  Tonight the street was busy enough that Aiden was very glad he had walked. There wasn't a ton of parking, and what was there was definitely full. He wound his way through the wide assortme
nt of people toward the club. He had just started scanning the enormous line for Zack and Scott when he heard his name shouted from up ahead. He wiggled past an angry looking bald man in a black tee while pointing at his friends and ducked into the line.

  "You're late!" Scott shouted indignantly.

  Aiden glared and gestured to the line left between them and the door. It was over a dozen little clumps of people long. "Seriously, Scott? You guys aren't even in the building yet."

  Zack propped his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows dramatically. "Well if someone hadn't lollygagged, we would have gotten in line sooner."

  Aiden's glare changed abruptly to a grin that he thought might be a little out of control. Oh, well. "I was held up."

  Scott huffed as they all shuffled up a few inches. "Yeah? By what?"

  "By a wall." Aiden snickered.

  Zack and Scott just stood and blinked at him. Scott opened his mouth and shut it a couple times. Zack opened his mouth and managed to produce actual sound. "Sooooo, you ran into a randomly appearing wall, which knocked you unconscious? What?"

  Aiden chuckled gleefully. "I was held up by a wall because I was hiding in an alley laughing my ass off."

  Scott stared some more. "Why was this happening?"

  Ignoring a few half-hearted glares, Aiden wiggled his way into the mass of people until he was standing between his two friends. He linked his arms through each of theirs and they shuffled forward as a group when the line moved. "You know that guy? The one we've all dubbed Hot Guy?"